Fields of Pelennor and House of Healing
by Shirequeen
Summary: Merry is hurt and ill after the battle. And Pippin, having found him, must be his strength during the hard days ahead.
1. Default Chapter

This is my first Lord of the Rings fic…..I hope people like it alright. I'll probably be re-posting it sometime, with corrections and such.

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The carnage around Merry grew dim to his eyes. He had fallen to his knees as soon as he stabbed the Witch King from behind, and now the strange iciness was beginning to spread from his hand and arm to the rest of his body. What was this feeling? He felt as though his arm was being burned through by a thousand frozen knives.

Merry keeled over from the dizzying pain, unnoticed, while around him the battle still raged. He could see blurs run by, could feel their thunderous footsteps reverberate beneath him. He heard the shouts and cries of agony as men and orcs fell to their deaths on his left and right. They were at war, and for anyone to notice a small, injured hobbit among masses of warriors battling in the War of the Age would be absurd.

No, Merry was quite alone as his senses dulled and he collapsed with a groan to the earth, losing consciousness. The battle was ending, and Merry lay dying on the grounds of Pelennor.

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Good-bye, Pip….

"Merry! Merry!" Tears stung the back of Pippin's eyes as he ran over and knelt beside his friend. Merry lay motionless beneath a fallen orc. Grunting in frustration, Pippin shoved at the body, fearing the worst. Merry's eyes were closed, and his face looked pale and livid- Pippin couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

Please- no, please, please……

"Oh, Merry." Pippin expression fell as he reached down to touch Merry's face. "He's freezing!" Pippin placed both hands on either side of Merry's face, looking desperately at him for signs of life. "Please, Merry, no…..you can't be…."

Suddenly, through his tears, Pippin saw Merry's eyes flutter open. Merry didn't look right. His eyes were cloudy and unfocused, as if shrouded behind a veil. When he spoke, he sounded distant, forming each word deliriously slowly. His voice was cracked and strained, as though the very effort exhausted him. "I knew…..you'd find me, Pip."

Pippin sighed in relief. He leaned down directly in front of Merry, brushing brown curls away from his friend's dirt and blood-streaked face. "Shh, it's okay, Merry. You're going to be alright. " But he looked hurriedly around for Gandalf. Despite his reassuring words, Pippin knew Merry wouldn't last long like this.

Merry's eyes drifted closed, then opened again as he fought with unconsciousness, and his voice sounded even farther off, but resigned and forlorn. "Are you going to leave me?"

The simplicity and sheer absurdity of the question made Pippin pause and turn back to him, forgetting for the moment Gandalf and the battle and everything but his fallen comrade, lying hurt and desperate in the dirt. Looking closer, Pippin saw him shaking. Merry was shivering.

How the roles had reversed…… Merry, the strong one, the brave and stable one, was now vulnerable and looking to him for protection and aid. It was a distressing situation, and Pippin wasn't sure he was up to it. He sighed, looking pitiably down on his friend. "No, Merry. I'm going to look after you." He took off his cloak and placed it over him, speaking quietly. "You're worn out…..are you wounded?"

"No……well, I don't think so……. But I can't feel my right arm, Pippin, …..not since I stabbed him….." Merry's voice was fading.

"Your arm? I don't know, then, we'll have to get you to the House of Healing. Can you walk?" Pippin hated himself for asking, but he couldn't carry Merry, and he needed medicine as soon as possible.

Merry nodded and sat up, supporting himself with his left arm. As Pippin held him beneath the arms, he rose unsteadily to his feet, swaying on the spot for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. Suddenly he gasped, shaking violently, and reached deliriously for Pippin.

"Help me, Pippin! It's all going dark again……. Pippin!" Merry shut his eyes tight, fear of an unknown foe etched across his face.

"Merry, I'm right here," Pippin grabbed his hand and held it tightly. He wrapped his other arm around Merry's waist and guided him back down to the ground. Pippin had to get him to the House of Healing.

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Chapter Two up later!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**:_ This is dumb. Tolkein can't sue me.

**_A/N:_** What, you guys thought this story had been abandoned? O ye of little faith. For the record, I recently updated my Harry Potter story as well. So give me some credit. Please leave a review if you're so inclined; I do appreciate them.

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_**Chapter 2**_

It had been almost an hour since Pippin had found Merry. He had felt sure, at first, that Gandalf was looking for them, but then where was he? Pippin knelt by Merry and placed a hand on his cheek. It was warm, much too warm. He reached over to hold Merry's hand; it was burning cold.

Pippin could not recall ever feeling as he did now, watching helplessly as his friend lay in the dirt, teetering back and forth from one side of consciousness to the other. He scooted closer. "Here, Merry lad, lay on me. There's no use in your rolling about on the dirt and gravel," he said, positioning Merry's head in is lap.

Merry mumbled something indiscernible in return, his state worsening considerably before Pippin's eyes. Merry's eyes fluttered, and his head lolled back and forth. Pippin held Merry's hand in his palm. "Shh, Merry. Merry, I'm here." Merry's hand was completely limp in Pippin's. He continued to groan and shiver, as if he were no longer aware of Pippin's presence.

"Can you hear me, Merry?"

Eyes closed, Merry only whimpered in fear of an adversary only his delusional mind could see. Pippin shook him gently, but received no response.

Pippin found himself blinking back tears. Angry at himself, he wiped furiously at them. He couldn't lose himself in despair and help Merry at the same time. Still holding Merry's hand in one of his, Pippin reached down with the other and ran his fingers along the side of his friend's face. "Merry, please come back. Gandalf will be here soon, you know. He's looking for us," Pippin told him, and desperately hoped it was true. Despite his assured front, Pippin had decided that if Gandalf did not arrive soon, one of two things would simply have to happen. Either Merry would have to walk or, if that proved impossible, Pippin would have to leave him and find help himself. Looking down at his trembling comrade, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

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It didn't. Gandalf found them shortly after, and dismounted from Shadowfax immediately.

"Gandalf!" Pippin exclaimed when he saw him, clutching onto his friend.

"What happened?" Gandalf demanded, nudging Pippin aside and crouching over Merry. Pippin shook his head; he didn't know himself, exactly. Gandalf assessed the situation, probing the wounded arm and looking intently at Merry's face. "This is not a natural wound," he said to himself. His brow furrowed with concern, he straightened up and motioned to Pippin.

"Is he going to be alright, Gandalf?" he asked, carefully removing Merry from his lap and standing, looking up at Gandalf. He hoped the quiver in his voice wasn't obvious. The wizard did not answer, but lifted Pippin atop the horse. Pippin steadied himself, then watched as Gandalf scooped Merry's now convulsing body and sat him in front of the other hobbit. "Hold him steady," he ordered, and then mounted Shadowfax himself.

Pippin wrapped his arms around his cousin's waist to hold him up, and buried his face in his neck.

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Merry was only half-awake, and conscious of nothing as Gandalf carried him into the House of Healing. With the hobbit in his arms, Gandalf again studied Merry's glazed eyes and shaking hands, and quickened his pace. Pippin followed, not half a step behind.

The House of Healing was fairly sparsely occupied, so Merry was allotted his own room. Pippin was initially surprised, given the intensity of the battle, but then considered that orcs didn't often leave the wounded alive. And when they did, Pippin supposed it was generally just a matter of time for the survivor, anyway.

With this sobering thought, he followed Gandalf and watched him lay his cousin on a large bed with grey sheets and posts made of dull wood. The mattress was level with Pippin's chest. Gandalf straightened up and turned to him. He was beyond the point of masking his concern or pretending that Merry's condition was not very critical indeed. "Peregrin Took," he said, "Aragorn and I will do everything we can. But he has gone far too long without aid. The next few hours will be everything for Meriadoc. If they do not go well for him…you should prepare yourself."

Pippin stared at him.

"I will leave now, and send for Aragorn. I should return early tonight at the latest. Don't leave him until Aragorn arrives."

He needn't have bothered giving Pippin any such command. The wizard's warning had floored him, and the young hobbit remained rooted to his post next to the bed long after Gandalf had left.

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**_A/N:_** More coming. We need more Merry. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed for chapter one! 


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